


v. chapter & verse.

by The Sneak (AloryShannon)



Series: Welcome to the Akatsuki Public Library, how may we help you to die--I mean, today? [7]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-22
Updated: 2009-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-27 18:26:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AloryShannon/pseuds/The%20Sneak





	v. chapter & verse.

  


* * *

 

After a day full of trying patrons and irritating coworkers, Sasori is understandably relieved to return to his nice, quiet house in the middle of his nice, quiet neighbourhood. Once finished with a light supper of steamed vegetables and dry toast, and the usual half-hour of watering his garden, he settles into his favourite chair, a cup of tea cooling on the nearby coffee table as he flips open his current literary choice (Goethe's _Faust_ ) and searches for his place on the page, intent on reading for a few hours before taking an early bedtime.

He’s more than a little surprised when the doorbell rings—he hadn’t ordered anything through the mail, and it’s really too late in the evening for it to be the post anyway, and he certainly wasn’t in the habit of expecting visitors. The few children in the neighbourhood knew better than to knock on his door; despite his slight frame and rather diminutive height, his demeanor made him more than a little intimidating, and he never bought any cookies or magazines anyway.

He’s even more surprised when he answers his door and finds Deidara standing there, several overpacked bags clustered about his feet.

The former actor flashes his danna bright grin and quickly steps inside before he can have the door shut in his face (which was of course Sasori’s first impulse on seeing who it was), already chattering a mile a minute. Sasori manages to catch the words _evicted_ and _stay with you,_ though, and cuts in on the veritable flood of words pouring out of his blonde coworker.

“Stop, _stop_ —just stop for one moment.” He can’t have heard that right, so after a moment of silence has passed with Deidara simply looking down at him with wordless expectation, he asks (against his better judgment): “Now, once again, and for the love of God, more slowly this time. _Why_ are you here, Deidara.”

This time it’s more of a verbal mudslide than a flashflood, but the words keep coming and coming all the same: “Just like I said, danna—I got evicted from my apartment because the manager is a crazy sonuvabitch and wanted my rent like six months in advance, and I don’t have that kind of money, especially since it’s gonna be theatre season soon, you know? Plus I think he was still mad about the fireworks, and about me having all those sculptures in the courtyard, and maybe about what happened to his dog, too, but that one _really_ wasn’t my fault, yeah. And since I didn’t have anywhere else to go, I thought of you, danna.”

Sasori just stares at him, stunned speechless. Deidara’s grin hasn’t dimmed in the least, and he looks around with interest as Sasori continues to stare, feeling very much like he’s watching a train wreck. Only, he’s actually _on_ the train.

“Hey, you’ve got a really nice place here, danna,” the blonde says, openly admiring the house. But even that will win him no points with the Head Reference Librarian, especially because he follows it with a glib, “There’s plenty of room, so I’m sure I won’t be intruding, right?”

Sasori opens his mouth to say that _yes,_ he will indeed be intruding, in fact he is intruding right now, and if he values his health he will _stop_ intruding immediately and intrude at the homeless shelter or Kisame’s house instead, but before he can even manage the _yes,_ Deidara chirps a bright, “Thanks a lot!” and starts hauling his things farther into the house, tracking mud as he goes.

“So which room am I—”

“STOP,” Sasori thunders, finally recovering on seeing the looming threat to his lush off-white carpet. Deidara, surprisingly enough, stops, looking back over his shoulder at the redhead with one foot in the air over said lush off-white carpet.

“No shoes in the house,” Sasori says firmly, then frowns because that wasn’t at all what he’d been meaning to say, which was something along the lines of, _there is no way you are staying here and bringing all your disgusting trash into my nice clean house. And get a haircut, the 70s and 80s have been over and out since well before you were born._ But oh well, at least the shoes are a start, though perhaps not a start in the direction he wants this to go.

Deidara blinks, then shrugs, dropping to the floor right where he’s standing and tugging his Converse sneakers off without even bothering to untie the laces. Then he’s bouncing back to his feet and poking into all the nearest corners and touching anything that looks remotely interesting, which is very nearly everything in sight, save Sasori himself.

“…I never said you could stay, you know.”

Deidara’s head whips around with an almost audible snap at his coworker’s tightly-spoken statement, his blue eyes going wide, though he knows that Sasori, of all people, is the _last_ person that puppy dog eyes are likely to have any effect on. When the redhead’s stony expression doesn’t soften in the slightest, Deidara turns his face away instead, hunching his shoulders and bowing his head a little.

“But…but I really don’t have anywhere else to go,” he mumbles, too sullen and genuinely lost and not sorrowful-sounding enough for it to be an act, and that _lost_ bit is what, surprisingly enough, catches at the ragged edges of the hole in Sasori’s chest where his heart had once been.

He breathes a silent sigh, then (once again against his better judgment) grudgingly says, “…Then…I _suppose_ …oh, all _right,_ you may stay.” His sharp gaze cuts off Deidara’s whoop of celebration as he adds, “But _only_ for tonight.”


End file.
